Three generations ago, the village was dirt poor.
The east and west banks of the river are two villages. Because the two villages are close to each other, young people often intermarry, so they have a very good relationship.
The river in the middle of the high dam has nurtured several generations, but by the time of Yi Mu's grandfather's father, a severe drought suddenly struck.
That year, the land cracked, and the once rushing river lost its flow. People from all around had to fetch water from the village entrance to drink.
The drought lasted for a long time, and as the river water became increasingly scarce, the two villages decided that they could no longer let others use the water, so they sent young people to guard the irrigation canal day and night.
Rivers are born of heaven and earth, and no one is their master.
The villagers deliberately controlled the water supply, preventing others from using it, which led those people to curse the villagers and wish them a terrible death.
The curse soon came true, and a fire suddenly broke out in one of the villages.
The weather was dry and the sun was scorching, making the fire completely uncontrollable. It spread uncontrollably to other houses, and in the blink of an eye, the entire village was engulfed in flames.
The young people in the village carried pots and pans and hurriedly went to the river to scoop water to put out the fire.
However, the basin was too small, only enough to hold a little water each time, and not enough for everyone, so they went to a neighboring village for help.
The commotion was so sudden and eerie that it set the entire village ablaze almost in the blink of an eye.
The villagers in the neighboring village were frightened. Instead of going to put out the fire, they hid their valuables first.
They feared that if the city gates caught fire, innocent bystanders would be affected, and for some reason, they developed a particularly cold-hearted attitude.
Since the house is already on fire and can't be saved, there's no point in wasting energy and precious water.
Speaking of water, strong men from the neighboring village, armed with sticks and shovels, held the water source, preventing the villagers from fetching water to put out the fire.
The reason is that the drought is going to end indefinitely, and water is everyone's lifeline; the crops in the fields also need water.
People who were originally harmonious revealed the ugliest side of human nature in the face of natural disasters.
The trickle of water became a precious asset that everyone fought over, refusing to give an inch.
For people back then, home was a safe haven, and moreover, it was the belief that sustained the family through life.
Even if it's eventually burned down to an empty shell, at least there will still be blackened beams to remember it by.
If it's burned to ashes by the fire, then there's nothing left.
Young men from two villages started fighting by the river. When the women tried to break up the fight, the men casually shoved them, sending them sprawling onto the pebbles by the river.
The children's faces were red from the firelight. They didn't know anything yet, only that the adults looked worried and burst into tears.
Young people were fighting fiercely by the river, while the old people were still engulfed in flames.
As someone smelled the aroma of roasting meat in the air, it suddenly started to rain. The fine drizzle of early spring felt like an unreal mist on their face.
The young people rushed into the fire like madmen, trying to rescue their parents, but it was too late.
The trees around the village were all burned, forming a solid wall of fire.
Outsiders can't get in, and those inside can't get out.
The entire village of about a hundred people, except for the women and children who were outside, were all burned alive.
The children's wailing was deafening, while the women cried as if they were attending a funeral, their shrill voices piercing the scalp and reaching the depths of the heart.
The cold-blooded, indifferent villagers huddled in their homes, too afraid to come out, their hearts filled with unbearable torment.
The widows of the village, leading their children, went from house to house, cursing and hurling insults.
They cursed every newborn in the village to face a life-or-death ordeal at the age of eighteen; if they survived, they would live, but if they failed, they would die.
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